


The Good in Goodbye

by Wynele



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, F/M, No Apricots were harmed in the writing of this story, Post Reveal, Spoilers for all seasons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-29 18:17:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16269725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wynele/pseuds/Wynele
Summary: Learning the truth about Lucifer was easy, accepting it was whole other matter.





	The Good in Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> This story morphed quite a bit from what I originally intended. It was supposed to be some light hearted fluff with a side of jealousy and a bit of smut. What happened, was this.

Chloe tried not to notice when Lucifer entered the precinct. She could always feel him now that she knew the truth. Even before then, really, if she were honest. His presence was like a buzz against her skin, a warm caress against the deepest parts of her. Places that for her own sake, she decided he would never be allowed to tread.

Lucifer was the Devil and she wanted, no needed, a normal life. He let her push him away and tried to understand. It was for the best, she told him, as she repeated the same tired excuses. As far as excuses go, they were good ones. It would never work. They were too different. He was immortal and, blessed or no, she was merely a human woman.

She refused to call him the devil, or anything that would lead him to believe that was why she was writing him out of her life. Even if it was true.

She couldn’t work with the devil. She couldn’t be friends with the devil. She couldn’t love the devil.

Even if all those things were false.

It was she that sought him out first, although she half wished it had been the other way around. If Lucifer had gone against her wishes, had wormed his own way back into her life, she would have someone to blame other than herself.

Breathing a dejected sigh, she pretended to be engrossed in her paperwork as he fluttered about the bullpen. He smiled and chatted with the other officers and they were all so happy to see him. As usual, Lucifer’s presence, his Luciferness, made even his worst qualities seem more like eccentricities than true character flaws.

“Decker!”

An involuntary gasp escaped Chloe’s lips as she whipped around in her chair in the direction of whoever called her. Her shoulders sank at the sight of Lieutenant Avery Wyatt leaning against the doorjamb of the conference room. She jerked her head back, gesturing for Chloe to follow her.

Chloe closed her eyes and took a deep breath, willing herself to calm. She had thought that after Malcolm, Dan, Pierce and the investigations that followed, that was she was done with internal affairs. Wishful thinking, it seemed.

Closing the file, she quickly rose from the desk and followed Wyatt through the narrow doorway.  As she closed the door behind her, she fought back a pang of something unwelcomed at the sight of Lucifer chatting with a pretty young woman.

“That’s Doctor Monica Anker, our new Forensics Psychologist,” Wyatt stated, her tone all business as she flipped open a personnel file. “Well, technically, we’re sharing her with three other precincts, but for the next six weeks she’s ours.”

Chloe lingered at the door for a moment longer, and then sat down at the conference table next to Wyatt. Avery Wyatt was a tiny woman with youthful features and glossy red hair, but she had a presence that made her utterly intimidating.”

“What’s IA’s interest in her?” she asked as Wyatt slid the file folder across the table to her. Chloe frowned, brows knitting together as she read. Monica Anker’s only experience was a classroom.

“Making sure she doesn’t get shot mostly,” Wyatt said and took a sip of her tea. “Which is why I’m giving her to you.”

Chloe tried twice before she finally managed to speak. “I appreciated the vote of confidence, Lieutenant, but—”

“It’s not confidence, Decker, it’s practicality,” Wyatt stated flatly, her lips quirking just slightly in a smirk. “You still have a permeant spot on my shit list.”

Shaking her head, Chloe’s eyes narrowed in annoyance as a tight smile formed on her lips. “Thanks,” she very nearly spat.

Wyatt chuckled beneath her breath, pressing her lips together so that the sound vibrated in the hollows of her cheeks. “I know you have your hands full with Mister Morningstar, so normally, I wouldn’t even consider it.”

“It’s okay,” Chloe offered, exhaling as she bobbed her head. “My caseload is pretty light, so it shouldn’t be too much trouble to show her the ropes.”

“Ah, the pitfalls of being the most competent sailor on a ship of fools,” Wyatt said with a sigh, her smirk fading as a thoughtful look fell over her features.

Chloe did roll her eyes then and shook her head, fighting the urge to smile. “Careful, Lieutenant. That almost sounded like a compliment.”

Wyatt scoffed, but her eyes smiled. “It’s just for a couple of days, Decker.”

****

 

A couple of days turned into a week, then two, and was now rapidly approaching a month. Despite whatever reservations Chloe might have had, the arrangement worked out fairly well. Doctor Anker was a near perfect midpoint between the extremes of hers and Lucifer’s personalities. She was also kind, almost painfully so, and more than willing to let more experience heads take the lead. Her only downside, her sole fault, was something that shouldn’t have even been an issue. Doctor Monica Anker had a huge soft spot for Lucifer. Worse, it wasn’t the fleeting, mischievous reaction he seemed to provoke in so many women, but something deeper, something real. Monica truly liked Lucifer and as near as Chloe could tell, he returned the sentiment. They made a cute couple, Ella insisted, and it was all Chloe could do to keep from scowling.

She had done it to herself, though she doubted anyone would truly blame her. After the fallout with Pierce, she had vowed to keep her romantic and her professional lives separate. A decision that had the unfortunate consequence of deeming anyone she worked with off-limits, including or perhaps, especially Lucifer. He had respected her decision, even if she doubted he truly understood it. As always, he seemed content to simply be at her side. That was, at least, until Monica Anker was dropped into their not quite healed partnership. Chloe huffed, breathing through her nostrils. She wasn’t jealous, she refused to be jealous.  

“Ah, Detective!”

 _Speak of the devil,_ she thought, squishing the bubble of warmth as she watched him duck beneath the police tape on his way to greet her. He had done everything she asked, given her the space she demanded, it was only fair that she do the same.

“Ah, there you are!” Lucifer chirped, smiling broadly. There was a spring to his step, a tale-tell bounce that broadcasted his feelings to any who bothered to notice. He was so happy, so incredibly pleased, that he had been allowed to do her a favor. It was so tragically unfair.

“I trust you and Doctor Monica didn’t miss me overmuch while I was off liberating your offspring.”

Rolling her eyes, she gave him a small smile, and then turned her attention back to the doctor. “It was after school detention, Lucifer. Not San Quentin.”

“Still, the place was hellish,” Lucifer clucked, fussing with his cufflinks as he moved to stand beside her. He tipped his head and stared down at her through his long lashes. “Believe me, I’d know.”

Chloe parted her lips slightly, wondering if he were about to kiss her. He wouldn’t, of course, his word was his bond. “Lucifer…”

He pulled away suddenly, catching himself, and cleared his throat. “I dropped her off at your mother’s residence as you instructed.”

“Thank you,” she breathed, flushing to her hairline when Lucifer beamed at her. 

Her fingers twitched at her side as she fought the urge to take his hand. Biting her lip, she balled her fist at her side and tried to ignore the fluttering low in her belly when his shoulder nearly brushed hers.

A sad realization washed over her with it came the familiar and unwelcome flood of guilt. If Lucifer had been Pierce, they would be in a closet right now. Even after all these months, she still couldn’t believe the boundaries she had allowed Pierce to cross. Worse was that he hadn’t forced her or tricked her, but rather she had crossed them with him, happily, gleefully. Not once did she consider how much she was putting at risk.

After his death, she found herself on administrative leave. He had, however, briefly been her fiancée. It didn't help that he was also a ruthless criminal mastermind and a murderer. A fact that continued to cast a long shadow of suspicion upon her that she doubted she would ever fully shake. Doubly so since he was the second corrupt cop she had been romantically linked to in as many years.

Even so, while it hadn't blown completely over, it had at least settled a bit, due in no small part to the LAPD appointed therapist. Chloe had been resistant at first, insisting what she needed was simply put it all behind her. Lieutenant Wyatt, however, had other ideas. Overruled, she found herself on a worn sofa, pouring out her deepest secrets to a stranger.

It hadn’t helped, or maybe it had. Most days she wasn’t sure. The therapist, an older woman with bright eyes and a warm smile, had insisted that none of it had been her fault. That she had been lonely and vulnerable. That she had simply been caught in the moment. Chloe wanted to believe her but found that she couldn’t. Not when so much of the past still colored the present. Her eyes slid sideways to Lucifer. She wanted to kiss him, to drag him into the nearby bushes and make out with him like a teenager. She wouldn’t, she couldn’t. Never again.

“I,” she drew out, giving the word a few extra syllables, and grimaced showing her bottom row of teeth. “I have Doctor Anker canvasing the crime scene with Ella.”

“Ooh?” Lucifer purred and smiled just enough that dimples appeared in his cheeks. He was clean-shaven, something he had been doing more often as of late, and his hair was long enough to curl at his collar. His lashes were long and feathery, accented with the barest hint of liner. He was still the most beautiful person she had ever seen. “Having the newbie do the grunt work. I like it.”

He reached into his suit jacket, and for a moment she thought he was going for his flask, but instead, he pulled out an envelope with Trixie’s name printed on it.

“The school believed that I was your offspring’s step-father,” he explained and held the sealed envelope up to the sun. “She, of course, said nothing to dissuade them.”

Chloe flushed, but quickly looked away in hopes that Lucifer wouldn’t notice. Frowning as she shook her head, she yanked the letter out of his hand and pretended that her breath didn’t hitch when his thumb brushed against hers.

“Lucifer,” she called when he started to walk toward Doctor Anker. Mentally, she cursed and pressed her lips together, when he turned back to face her. There was something she needed to do for both their sakes. It was something unpleasant, and thus best done quickly. “I know you promised Trix you’d come to her recital this weekend, but…”

Hurt flashed over his features only to vanish so quickly that for a moment she thought she might have imagined it. He nodded once and his entire being seemed to sag so that even the light around him dimmed. “Understood, Detective.”

 

****

Lucifer said he understood, but Chloe knew he didn’t. How could he when she didn’t understand it herself?  She stared at her computer monitor and sighed, frustration ebbing into every fiber of her being. Even with Anker’s help, her case had hit a brick wall. The victim was a retired music teacher, who was well liked but kept mostly to himself. There were no witnesses and no real motive. The only thing vaguely out of the ordinary was the victim’s missing cat.

Her eyes wandered over the family photo she kept on her desk. Trixie had been so disappointed when Lucifer hadn’t shown up to her recital. So was she, despite being the one who asked him to stay away. He sent flowers afterward, a huge bouquet of violet and pink orchids, with a letter attached Trixie wouldn’t let her read.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Chloe whispered, her fingertips grazing over her daughter’s image in the photo. It was for the best, she told herself the thousandth time since she had allowed Lucifer back into her life.

Allowed, but not fully welcomed as she continued to keep him at arm’s length. Anytime he came close to slipping past the patched walls she erected around herself, she pushed him back until he melded with her own shadow. It was so unfair.

She narrowed her eyes to a squint and glare up at the clock on the wall. It was a quarter to midnight, long past the time she should’ve been at home. Trixie was no doubt in bed and her sitter ready to revolt. Sighing, she clicked off her monitor and rose from her desk. The precinct was nearly empty, even Lucifer had booked off hours ago to tend to his club.

Briefly, she considered dropping by Lux. His door was always open, even with the distance between them. He would drop everything to tend to her, to make her smile. It was flattering the way he flitted around her like a moth to a flame, utterly unaware of the danger. She was hurting him, hurting herself, and hurting Trixie. Something had to change.  Chloe took out her phone as she walked toward the stairs leading to the ground floor and eventual exit. She wanted to talk to him, to tell him that this wasn’t working. There was nothing he could do and wasn’t his fault, but that didn’t change the fact that he was the devil.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered beneath her breath, her finger hovering over his contact photo. She couldn’t see him again, could be friends with him again, couldn’t love him again. It was for the best in a long line of things that were for the best.

Steeling herself, she took a deep breath and lowered her finger, covering Lucifer’s smiling face. The phone began to dial, but before he picked up, Chloe heard the click heels behind her. Startled, she hung up in mid-dial, hoping that he wasn’t about to answer, and shoved the phone into her jean’s pocket. With her spine as stiff as a rod, she turned on her heel to see Doctor Monica Anker smiling back at her.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Detective. I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said, biting her bottom lip as she glanced around the empty precinct. “I didn’t think anyone else was here.”

Chloe relaxed and managed a small smile. “I hit a brick wall with the Davenport case and lost track of time.”  She glanced pointedly up at the clock on the wall despite already knowing the late hour. “You’re here late.”

“Yeah, I’m being transferred,” she breathed, smacking her lips together, and glanced briefly down at the floor, “so, I wanted to make sure everything was wrapped up here before I left.”

“Oh?” Chloe asked, puzzled, but also strangely relieved. She twisted her hands together, bending one back until her fingertips touched her shoulder. “Did they say when?”

Yawing into the back of her hand, Monica stretched toward the ceiling and then dropped her hands to her side. “Oh, excuse me,” she murmured, shaking her dark hair from her shoulders. “Tomorrow, which sucks, but I guess it’s good too.”

Chloe frowned, wrinkling her nose, and crossed her arms over her middle. “How so?”

Doctor Anker flushed a little and lifted one shoulder. “Good, because I’m finally out of your hair and bad because…” she bit her lip, a slight smile curling at her lips. “I really enjoyed working with you and Mister Morningstar.”

Chloe chuckled and smile warm, genuine smile. She’d miss Doctor Anker, Monica, more than she cared to admit. “Where are they sending you?”

“Across town,” Monica said with a bob of her head. “So, there is a chance we’ll run into each other again and I’ll definitely be sent back before long, especially with the budget cuts. Anyway, I should head home.”

Chloe nodded, banishing the thought of going to Lux from her mind. “Me too.”

Doctor Anker walked past her, her heels clicking as she climbed the stairs. She stopped once she reached the first landing, the same place Pierce had propositioned her for their evidence room tryst, and turned around.

“Detective Decker, uh, Chloe?” she began, smiling shyly. She looked so young and innocent, so free and unburdened. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Chloe said slowly, ignoring the sinking feeling in her gut. “I know a lot of the other officers from the other precincts, so I can give you a heads up if you need it.”

Monica laughed, her eyes crinkling. “I’ll keep that in mind. No, it’s. Well, it’s kind of inappropriate really.”

Chloe perked up, her eyes darting sideways as she was suddenly filled with an almost Lucifer-like glee. “Oh, then I have to know.”

Doctor Anker flushed again, a smile tugging at the corners of her cheeks, and sighed. It was a soft dreamy sound, a sound that meant nothing but trouble. “It’s about Mister Morningstar, uh, Lucifer.”

Digging her heels into the floor, Chloe sighed and lolled her head back to stare at the ceiling. Strange how Lucifer so-called delusion came up more often now that she knew the truth than it did before she had.

“Lucifer is Lucifer,” she said, proud of what could almost be considered a double meaning. “I’ve learned to just roll with it.”

“Oh, you mean the devil thing?” Anker chuckled and took a step down to close the distance between them. “It’s LA, everyone’s got a thing.”

Chloe bobbed her head and took a step forward so that she could lean against the stairwell railing. She was so tired, and yet, her mind was painfully awake.  “So, what do you want to know?”

“Well, he’s been your partner forever. And from what I gather, you’re his best friend,” Anker explained, and then sucked in a breath as if gathering her courage. “This is super inappropriate to ask, but since I’m not going to be here for a while, I thought maybe… Do you know if he’s seeing anyone?”

Chloe choked as though someone had just punched her in the stomach. Monica Anker couldn’t have hurt her worse if she tried. “Yes,” she lied, her mind reeling. “For a while now.”

Anker made a little disappointed sound, her lips twisting into a full pout. “Oh, well, drat. “I’m not surprised, though. He’s a complete sweetheart.” she made a little humming sound and shot Chloe a knowing look. “Whoever snagged him is probably the luckiest person in the world.”

“Yeah,” Chloe breathed beneath her breath as Doctor Anker turned and walked up the stairs.

Chloe watched her disappear around the corner before fishing her phone out of her pocket. To her relief, Lucifer had not tried to call her back. Her thumb hovered over contacts list, sliding back and forth. She needed him out of her life, or perhaps he needed her out of his. He was the devil and she was just the woman who loved him.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she flung her phone across the room. It struck the door to Ella’s lab, its screen shattering when it struck the floor. Someone would find it in the morning and lay on her desk. She’d stare at it, pretended that she hadn't been the one to break, and then stick it back into her pocket as if nothing had happened.

But something had happened and there was no fixing it. Perhaps that was the whole point. The phone was broken, she was broken. In so many ways, Monica Anker was perfect. She was kind and beautiful with no baggage and a bright future. More importantly, she truly cared about everyone, about Lucifer. There was no doubt in her mind that Monica and Lucifer could be incredibly happy together. And yet…

Coming to a decision she hadn’t realized she was making, Chloe bound up the stairs and out to her car.

****

Lux was still bursting at the seams when Chloe arrived and would be several more hours. Despite her long absence, the staff still recognized her, which allowed her to bypass the long line into the club and go directly inside.

After quickly glancing around, she saw no sign of Lucifer. Deciding that he was upstairs and hoping he was alone, two things she realized were beyond wishfully thinking, she hurried to the penthouse elevator.

She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts, before jabbing the button with her thumb. The elevator door opened with a ping and she stepped inside. It was now or never, and she still had no idea what she was going to say.

After too few minutes, the elevator doors slid open again and Chloe found herself in the darkened penthouse. Heart hammering in her chest, she took a step forward, resisting the urge to reach for the light switch behind the bar. She knew without even seeing that he was gone. Dejected, she turned to leave but before she reached the elevator, a soft feminine voice floated out from the balcony.

“So, am I to watch over all your humans?” asked the unseen woman. Her voice was kind, if a touch playful, with an inflection that mirrored Lucifer’s. “or just Christie?”

Chloe frowned, squinting as she wrinkled her nose, and tried to think. Who was Christie?

“Chloe, sister,” Lucifer corrected with a sigh. He sounded so tired, so desperately sad. “I know it’s cowardly, but I wrote her a letter explaining everything. Tim will hand deliver it to her in the morning.”

The woman chuckled softly, but without humor. “I was wondering why he seemed so happy this afternoon.”

Chloe kept forward, trying to see out onto the balcony while remaining out of sight. She heard the shake-click of a lighter and the hiss of a cigarette being ignited.

“It’s all yours,” Lucifer said before taking a long drag from his cigarette. “The money, the property, Lux, everything, but what I set aside for the urchin. I only ask that you keep the club open and continue to treat my employees as I have.”

“You’re not a coward, Lucifer. You’re hurt and so you're not thinking clearly,” his sister said softly, “You deserve better.”

“No, I don’t,” Lucifer muttered and flicked his cigarette over the balcony.

Chloe watched it sail over the railing, like a tiny comet, and disappear. She pressed her back against the wall nearest the balcony door and edged sideways just enough to catch a glimpse of the female angel.

The angel was tall, just shy of six feet, but slender as a reed. Her build reminded Chloe of Charlotte, but that was where the similarities ended. She appeared to be in her mid-twenties and had long dark curls that hung nearly to her knees. Her eyes were so dark they nearly black and rimmed with long, feathery lashes. She was beautiful, Lucifer in feminine form. 

“I’m not here to convince you otherwise,” the angel tutted, clicking her tongue against her teeth. “I’m just here to conceal your path and to watch over your Christie.”

“Chloe,” Chloe mouthed at the same time Lucifer corrected his sister and rolled her eyes. She pressed her palm against the wall, knowing Lucifer was directly behind it. Slowly, she shook her head, realizing Lucifer wasn’t the only coward in the room.

“It’s Chloe,” she said, this time loud enough to be heard and hooked her arm around the wall to pull herself onto the balcony. “And it’s written on my badge in case you forget.”

The angel grinned that wide painful grin that Lucifer no doubt patented and tilted her head sideways. “Are you certain?” she quipped with a bit of slyness in her tone. “You rather look like a Christie.”

“And you look like a…”  Chloe began, eyes bugging just slightly as she wracked her brain for the names of any angels that could possibly be female. “Jophiel.”

The angel looked thoroughly insulted, gasping as she flung a hand over her heart. “How dare you!”

“Right,” Chloe deadpanned, exhaling sharply before glancing up at Lucifer. To her surprise, he had paled several shades and was slowly shaking his head at her in disbelief. “Jophiel isn’t a popular person, I take it.”

“If by not popular, you mean a complete bitch, then sure,” the angel retorted, and then glanced sideways at Lucifer. “And on that note, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Before Lucifer could protest, she rolled her shoulders, unfurling huge, pale blue wings, and disappeared.

Lucifer tipped his head back, blowing out a breath to the sky before his face crumpled into a cringe. “Detective.”

“Lucifer, I…” Chloe murmured, but the rest of the words faded, falling away with the countless other things that continued to remain unspoken between them.

“As you’ve no doubt overheard, I’m leaving,” he began softly as if speaking to himself. It was the same tone he used when he found her asleep in his bed and confessed things she would’ve heard had she cared to listen. “My presence here has done nothing but cause you pain.”

Chloe closed the distance between them and took both his hands in hers. “That makes two of us,” she murmured and stood on tiptoe to kiss him. “And that’s the last I ever wanted.”

Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead against hers. “I’ve already said my goodbyes to your offspring, so you needn’t worry about explaining my absence.”

“What about Maze?” she asked urgently, looking for any way to stall him, to keep him here. “Are you taking her back with you?”

“No, never. Not after…” Lucifer snorted, caressing her face with a puff of air. “I plan to impose on an old friend for a few centuries.”

“And then?” she asked, thinking, hoping that he was simply moving to another city or country, not leaving earth entirely.

Lucifer kissed her softly, tenderly, as if he was kissing her for the first and last time. He stepped away from her and walked to balcony rail, giving her his back. “Go home, Detective. It’s late.”

Chloe stepped back, tears stinging her eyes and blurring her vision. Her face crumbled as she swallowed over and over, her tongue too thick to speak. It was late, too late, and now she would never see him again.

****

As she predicted, her phone was waiting for her at her desk when she arrived at work the next morning. The screen was cracked, and the battery had long since died, but nevertheless, she slid into its usual place in her pocket. Broken or not, it was still hers.

Settling back in her chair, she glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was a good hour and a half before the time Lucifer usually graced her with his presence. Her hand went to her phone in her pocket and she wondered, just for a fleeting moment, if it would do any good to call. It was dead, so it wouldn't have made a difference either way.

Before she could decide one way or another, someone approached her desk. Looking up, she met the intense dark eyes of a handsome, if weather-beaten man. He was average height, Hispanic, and had salt and pepper hair. The cop in her cataloged every detail, including the small brass nametag pinned to the front of his postal service uniform.

“May I help you?” she asked as pleasantly as she could muster and tried not to look at his nametag. The longer she avoided reading it, the longer she could pretend that this wasn’t Lucifer’s goodbye.

The man twisted so that he could pull a letter from the heavy satchel slung over his right shoulder. “I have a certified letter for one Detective Chloe Jane Decker.”

“I’m Detective Decker,” she said, laughing a little at the man’s tone. He was so serious, so dour as if he weren’t simply delivering the mail. Then again, perhaps he wasn’t.

She held out her hand for the letter, but he simply stared at her expectantly and frowned.

“I’ll need to see some ID.”

Chloe blinked in surprise and briefly glanced down at her desk nameplate to make certain it was still there. “Sure,” she said slowly and reached into her desk drawer for her identification. “Here you go.”

As he leaned forward to examine her license and badge, she caught sight of his nametag and saw that it read, “Tim.” This was it, she realized with a sick feeling to her stomach. Lucifer was truly gone.

The man pulled out an electronic PDA and held it out for her to sign. “On the line, ma’am.”

Without looking, Chloe quickly signed and took the letter from the man. “Have you known Lucifer long?”

Tim stared unblinkingly at her for a long moment. “I’m just a mailman, ma’am.”

“Right,” Chloe breathed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She settled back into her chair and pressed Lucifer’s letter to her chest. There was no forward or return address on the envelope, just her name written in Lucifer's looping handwriting on the back. He seldom crossed his “Ts” to the point where most of their paperwork was signed Lucifer Mornings _l_ ar.

“If you’re a mailman,” she began slowly, not daring to get her hopes up. “Does that mean you could deliver a letter for me?”

Tim nodded once, just a quick bob of his head. “Assuming you have the proper postage.”

Sensing Tim probably didn't mean stamps, Chloe reached down and opened the bottom drawer of her desk. Tim watched, his eyes fixed in a dispassionate stare, as Chloe rifled through its contents. Finally, she found what was she looking for. It was a small plastic container that one time held bubblegum or some other candy. She tipped it upside down and shook it until something spilled out onto the desk. It was the necklace Lucifer had given her for her birthday. She had kept it, despite telling Pierce she had thrown it away. Fighting back tears, she lifted it to her lips and pressed a light kiss on the bullet before handing it to Tim.

“What about this?”

***

Tim shifted the heavy satchel on his shoulder while he shielded his eyes from the glaring light with his free hand. He normally didn’t make deliveries for mortals, but Chloe Decker had the proper postage and so, he was bound. Matter settled, he stepped onto a winding cobblestone path and traveled deep into the mountains. It didn’t take him long to find The Lightbringer, or rather, for The Lightbringer to find him.

“Tim,” Lucifer greeted flatly and paused for a moment to fuss with the hems of his billowing sleeves. “This is a surprise.”

Tim twisted so that he could pull what looked to be a hot-pink post-it from his satchel. “I have a letter for you, Lightbringer.”

Sighing, he looked away as he took the pink scrap of paper from Tim’s outstretched hand. Lucifer stared down at the post-it in his palm. It was folded in half with his name written in Chloe’s precise handwriting on the outside. She always capitalized her “Ls,” so that she signed all her paperwork as Ch _L_ oe Decker.

He looked up, intent on asking how or with what the detective had made postage, but the mailman was gone. Lucifer balled his hand into a fist, crumpling the pink paper against his palm. He raised his arm and flung his hand outward, splaying his fingers. But instead of flying over the cliff’s edge, out of sight and out of mind, the sticky side of the post-it clung to his finger and refused to let go.

Frustrated, he yanked the balled up paper from his finger and tossed it the ground. He made a half turn, intent on returning to the center of this dying star when a sudden breeze picked up the paper and sent it flying into the air. The breeze left as quickly as it came, depositing the crumpled pink paper at his feet.

Realizing he had been defeated, by a breeze and an unruly post-it, no less, he reached down to pick up the pink scrap. He uncrumpled it slowly, smoothing it against his chest to iron out the wrinkles, and then very carefully unfolded it. There written in Chloe’s hand was a single sentence, a tiny two-word message, that caused his entire resolve to crumble.

_Come home._

****  


A week passed, then another, and Chloe found herself knee-deep in unsolved cases. Her new boss threatened to give her a partner, but Lieutenant Wyatt quickly vetoed the idea. Why Internal Affairs seemed to have her back was something she lacked the energy to investigate. Then again, considering Wyatt seemed content to allow her to work dangerous cases alone, perhaps there was less concern than she wanted to believe.

Still, it wasn’t the first time she had been a pariah at the precinct. And, if her luck remained as it had, it wouldn’t be the last. Rolling her shoulders, she popped her neck and quickly climbed out of her car. On the surface, this case seemed fairly cut and dry, which was a boon considering her current caseload. Still, she would follow all the leads, explore all the angles, and double check all the alibis while desperately wishing she had someone willing to run off on a mad tangent that would give her a better idea.

She began to make her way to where Doctor Anker spoke with Ella when she heard the familiar rumble of a classic Corvette.  


“Ah, Detective!” Lucifer crowed as he hopped out of his car. As if he hadn’t been gone for two weeks, as if she hadn’t had to beg a favor from an interdimensional mailman just to get him a message. A fact that was utterly crazy and something she’d probably think too hard about later.

“You’re late,” she snapped, fighting the urge to smile when he jogged up to stand beside her. She tipped her chin so that she could eye him sideways. The scruff was back, and he had cut away his curls.

He reached for her hand but didn’t quite take it, his fingertips grazing her knuckles. “Well, I had to wait for the mailman and, well—” he gestured to the crime scene. “I’m here now, so shall we?”

Chloe narrowed her eyes into a squint, before shaking her head, and then handed him a file. Without waiting for him to follow, but knowing he would, she stalked away from him and into the crime scene.

 

Things weren’t better, they likely wouldn’t be for a very long time. But, for the first time, Chloe and Lucifer felt like perhaps they had a chance.


End file.
